


Nada Má' Nada Meno'

by nowsaguaro



Category: One Day at a Time (TV 2017)
Genre: Elena's struggling, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Mental Health Issues, Timeline in Victor's wedding is probably canon divergent, less of a get together fic more of a chronicle
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-01-22 23:54:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18538051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nowsaguaro/pseuds/nowsaguaro
Summary: Elena decides not to forgive Victor. Schneider is an expert on fatherly distance.





	1. Full People

“Hey, Alex told me you’d be here.” Schneider walks over to sit in the chair next to Elena’s in a - by comparison - deeply quiet room and puts a gentle hand on her back. “What’s going on?”

She wipes a snotty nose and doesn’t look up from her shoes. “Everybody all of a sudden has amnesia for the comfort of enjoying some stupid party.”

Schneider tries not to react while he quickly scans through how she must have felt the past few weeks. “He’s a jerk, Elena. I can see that. I never forgot that. And I’m with you in whatever you choose – to forgive him, to never talk to him, to have another father figure take you out for dinner whenever he’s with Alex–” he waves a hand to indicate himself, trying to make the moment light-hearted.

“I don’t need a father figure. I have a mother figure.”

It stings him to hear her bite out something like that, but he does completely understand her point.

When she feels his hand stutter on her back, she adds, “what I mean is, ‘found families’ are something that work for you,” she turns to finally look at him in his eyes, “Schneider, but _papi_ and _dad_ became bad words to me, and I don’t want to associate you with some role in my head still taken by someone I _disappointed_ just by being a full person.” Elena plucks at a loose thread from the tip of her shoes. “And no amount of his old 'I'm different now's will write over that.”

“And it shouldn’t. You don’t have to believe that now this distance from him means you have a hole in your life.” He takes both his hands to mime a circle shape. “The expectation of codependency in a biological nuclear family? _So_ heteronormative.”

Elena gets a tiny smirk. “Exactly! You mean so. much. to me, but because you’re _Schneider_ , my landlord and my friend. And… kinda my boss?” Her voice cracks while she thinks more about how they ended up with that dynamic.

Schneider’s chest swells a bit at the kindness, but now is not his moment to cry or pivot focus. “Your dad thinks that whatever stance he lands on is going to make up for the stance he used to have. That the world stops and waits while he ‘processes.’” He air-quotes patronizingly, feeling bigger than Victor for the first time ever.

“Yeah, what - so he imagined a different future for me? And so he _bails_? Bullshit. No one asks the _gay kid_ if their parents ‘caught _them_ off guard’!” Her eyes begin to water again.

“Woah, c’mere.” Schneider stands and brings Elena up for a hug, where she buries her newly forming sob-hiccups into his tie. “You’re right. You were incredibly brave to be that vulnerable, even thinking he’d understand,” he talks a little more firmly when her crying goes silent, “but more brave to choose yourself over him. I’m so glad that we were all blessed with you in our lives. Every bit of you.” She peels her face off his chest to look up at him and he pulls away to grab her shoulder like a basketball coach, “I’ve got this cool, token gay neighbor! And if you ever need anything, I, Alex, your mother, your Abuelita – we’re all your unit. We’re here.”

She snorts in a flattered and tearful laugh. “Thank you. You know we don’t say it, Schneider, but we really like you in our lives, too.”

“Well, your abuela says it, but not in a way I’m comfortable with.” He puts a big hand on top of Elena’s head. “I just wanna to see you happy, kiddo. How ‘bout we go home?”

She silently nods, blowing out a big puff of air to steady her voice, “I’ll go pull the car around.”

“Ha. ha. This isn’t a pity situation, it’s more of a ‘tender moment’ situation, so I’m not gonna let you drive without _un adulto_. I _will_ , however, take you to see _Vagina Monologues_ this week at UCLA.”

“Worth a shot.” She wipes more snot and tears from her face, “and I feel like you want to see that even more than I do, but… okay.” Elena smooths down her jacket and heads out through the back of the hall while Schneider returns to the reception.

  


* * *

 

 

In the main hall, Penelope is sitting, scratching at the table cloth with her thumbnail when Schneider approaches the table again. “Hey, good-lookin’, wanna join me on the dance floor?”

Penelope initially flinches at his sudden appearance. “Where’ve you been?” She had been sitting alone for several moments too long.

“Pen, I’ll explain if you come over here with me,” Schneider says while he charmingly tilts his head toward the crowd.

She sighs. “Okay, I’ll give my fundillo a break. I was looking real pathetic for a minute there.”

He pulls her up with his extended hand, “you know you look good. There are definitely no men here feeling sorry for you, girl.”

She rolls her eyes, landing them sharply back on him. “I _do_ look good, huh.” She smiles while they get situated in a nice pocket of dancing couples. Schneider pulls up their clasped hands and places his other on her waist.

Leaning down as much as he can, he begins. “So. I was talking to Elena.” Schneider’s face goes very serious.

Penelope’s sinks, too. “Is she okay?”

“She’s waiting outside. I didn’t wanna rip you out of the reception and make some big production for everyone.”

“What happened, Schneider - is she okay?” Penelope repeats, her voice getting increasingly concerned.

“She’s– uh– stable. Turns out, some feelings about Victor weren’t going anywhere. It didn’t seem like a question of whether she’s _ready_ to see him, more like if she wants him in her life.”

Penelope winces. “He really did some damage on her.” Even with the heels, she doesn’t have the option to put her chin up on Schneider’s shoulder to speak quietly, so she settles for whispering up at him through her teeth.

Schneider speaks softly back down to her, “she will be okay. Buuut I did tell her we could get outta here. If you want, I can take her home and you all could stay–”

Penelope raises her hand, “no, no, we’ll all go. My baby’s hurting. Lemme just real quick say goodbye to Victor and Nicole.”


	2. Más Que Nada

**1am / upstairs / after everyone’s gone to sleep:**

 

Penelope walks over to the couch to join Schneider, the both of them already changed into sweatpants after an evening in starchy clothing.

“Gaah, my heart hurts. I’m realizing I _have_ never and I _will_ never know what it’s like for a parent to deny you love for just… a fact.” She gestures passionately. “How do I help my nena?”

“Well, Pen, this is the beginning of the part of her life where you won’t be her teacher for everything. She’ll have a different experience of the world than you.”

She frowns at this thought and, after about a minute, turns to him quickly. “Where’d you get so smart, huh?”

“Pepperdine, I guess.” Schneider shrugs. He tacks on, “I mean, you struggle with mental illness, which Lydia can’t understand, and your daughter is gonna have probably a harder journey to self-love than you could understand.”

“And you think she’s prepared for all that?”

“I mean, honestly, I have a lot of experience learning to be the strongest source of love in my own life. The thing that took the longest was figuring out it had to be _me_. Maybe that’s why it seems clumsy. Because I didn’t get an opportunity to learn by example. But Elena does.”

“Well, self-taught Schneider is not so bad.” She pinches his ribs where she knows will make him flinch.

“Is that a compliment para mi español?” Schneider rolls his eyebrows smugly.

“It really wasn’t.” Penelope bites down on her impulse to drag him. “I just mean, being clumsy and generous with your heart– that’s something I think I’d rather be.”

“Oh, so it’s not,” he puts up air quotes, “ _naïve_?”

“ _No_ – well, don’t get me wrong, you’re naïve in a lot of ways – but the fact that you aren’t bitter and cold after the man who raised you–” she interrupts herself while she considers Schneider’s very real struggles in adulthood, “oh, God. Is Elena gonna–” she throws her head back to rest it on the couch frame.

“That was my point, Pen.” He taps her cheek like he’s testing its bounce-back. “Children’s – _everyone’s_ – self-concepts are made of what their worlds provide them the language for. And Elena has a **lot** of love in her life. Even though someone _that_ important to her made her feel unworthy, a piece of her was unconvinced. That’s how she got from sad to angry. She’ll find a way.”

Penelope looks back at him fondly. “Is that Pepperdine again?” _Full of surprises._

“Hey, I _read_.” He puts a hand up defensively.

“So how did you teach yourself love and confidence? Cause I _know_ you can’t read that. And I _know_ your father didn’t give you any o’ _that_ foundation.”

“A little strategy that I like to call ‘fake it ‘til you make it.’” He jostles her in a half-hug. “And, y’know… maybe being able to be this warm -and loved- person after Father was who he was – maybe that’s _my_ miracle.”

Penelope’s eyes fill with tears, the kind that come from hearing exactly what you needed to hear. She looks over at him and laughs, “would it be totally weird if I said I feel like I should kiss you right now?”

Schneider searches her eyes. “Definitely weird, definitely want you to.”

She playfully makes a [ _yuck_ ] face and gavels a fist on his knee. “I was kidding, you old man.”

He gains a lopsided smirk. “Mhmm, me too.”

She can’t help but roll her eyes and blush a little under his eye contact. Always so disconcertingly warm. The two of them take a moment to loudly exhale the stress from the night.

 

And they bump fingers while they desperately grab each other in a kiss.

 

When they separate a few seconds later, both of their eyes shoot open wide. _That’s new._

“That was weird!” Penelope retracts her hand from his shoulder and reels it in to fold her arms anxiously.

Schneider nods vigorously. “Yup, so weird.”

He continues to nod while they both lean in again.


	3. Agendas

At breakfast the following day, Elena silently chomps through the piece of cake that Lydia stole for her from the reception (before the bride and groom ceremonially sliced it), every few minutes smiling at a text that pings on her phone.

Penelope and Schneider for the most part avoid each other’s gaze across the table. 

Alex finally breaks the silence, “really good pastelitos, Abuelita!”

Lydia’s grateful for the noise and the attention, “ay, gracias, Papito!”

In an effort to join in on cutting through the palpable tension only she and one other person feel, Penelope tries to stretch out what will definitely be a boring conversation, “yeah, Mami, how come you made them with blueberries and not guayaba?”

“Bueno, mija, although I’d usually rather keel over than to make my country’s food taste like a pop-e-tart, the market was out of guayaba essept for the cans.”

“It’s closer to a Toaster Strudel, actually.” Schneider remarks (to a room full of pursed lips.)

“Why do you do it?” Penelope quickly replies.

“I don’t. Know.” He smiles uncomfortably back at Lydia’s glare.

 

Penelope addresses the table with a hand flourish, trying to avoid another conversation lull for many reasons. “So, what’s on the agenda for today?”

“Schneider was gonna take me shopping for cleats.” Alex says, before shoving a spoon of beans in his mouth.

“We were thinking Elena could drive everyone to the mall and we could all do our own thing.” Schneider flips his hand around to indicate everyone.

Everyone nods while eating, clearly having previously made these plans without Penelope. “Who’s ‘we’?” She looks around the table.

“The group chat with us and Syd.” Alex replies with his mouth full.

“You have a group chat without me?” She looks pointedly at each person with her mouth ajar.

“Relájate, niña, it’s just for the joung people.” She avoids eye contact, “no offense.”

Penelope’s mouth stays open. “Okay, I need to move on from this. Yeah, I’m down for a day at the mall.”

Schneider mutters to himself while moving food around with his fork, “if we have room in the car.”

Penelope smiles incredulously and raises a threatening pastelito, “I’ll kill you.”

“Kidding! I’m kidding!” He says and holds his hands in front of his body in defense.

 


	4. Cleats and Cauliflower

In the food court, everyone agrees upon a time frame to meet back and Schneider re-briefs Alex on the cleats he researched. Three pairings break off to wander around different stretches of the mall.

 

\--

Schneider starts, “this is sad, so many empty storefronts!”

“Same amount of goths, though.” Penelope snorts.

He smiles down at her and takes her hand and swings it. “Feel like a teenager?”

She bites the inside of her cheek. “I _would_ if I hadn’t found another gray hair this morning.”

“What if we went out through the exit near the bathroom and made out next to where all the mall employees smoke?”

“So you _do_ listen to my stories!” She shakes his arm.

“Markie Rodriguez.” He smiles without turning to her.

“Remember the 90’s when guys could get away with names like that?” She leans against him more.

“Didn’t you go by _Nelly_?” Schneider peers out of the corner of his eye, judgmentally.

“For a year!” Then she quietly adds, “and I _tried_ to get people to call me that but it didn’t catch on.”

“Every hero has a tragic backstory.” He sighs loudly.

“Such a cornball. Okay, so where are we gonna go right now? Elena and Syd are doing their little comic book stuff and Alex and my mom are hitting the sporting goods store and – yup, she’s probably pretending to slip and break her hip for a discount as we speak!” Penelope cups a hand around her ear to pretend to listen closely.

“We could get soft pretzels and sit on those benches near the vending machines?”

“You don’t wanna go to Sharper Image and look at all their weird tech nerd stuff?” She flops her hand around.

“I can see their catalog online whenever I want, but I have very few opportunities to get gross with you.” Schneider brings their joined hands up to kiss her fingertips.

She pauses for a moment. “Okay, that’s true. But let’s hurry.”

 

\--

 

Back in the food court, everyone regroups in front of Jamba Juice, Schneider and Penelope the only ones without shopping bags.

“Guat did ju two do?” Lydia casually asks.

“Nothing!”//”Pretzels.” Penelope and Schneider respond in unison.

Elena, looking drained, offers, “so are we heading home now or…?”

“Yep, let’s skedaddle!” Schneider anxiously responds, completely unaware of how to play anything cool and the rest of the group mouths _"skedaddle?"_ to each other as he races ahead.

 

-

 

From the driver’s seat, Schneider tries to (almost) subtly check in with Elena. “Hey, you two, how was today’s haul? Anything – or any _one_ – new come out? Surprise author signings?”

Syd answers, “nothing new. We mostly just smelled stuff at Yankee Candle and found a sweet RBG poster.”

Elena sees Schneider’s concerned eyes catch hers in the rear view mirror. She smiles flatly.

He starts again, “Syd, should I drop you at home or are you coming to dinner?”

Syd replies, “thanks, but I think I should go home,” and puts their hand over Elena’s. They mouth a “will you be okay?” to Elena and she nods back.

 

* * *

 

 

Around 6, Schneider walks into an odd scene; Alex and Penelope are sitting at the table while Lydia wails in the kitchen at Elena.

“What’s going on in there?” Schneider asks, a concerned feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“Elena switched out the rice with riced cauliflower.” Alex boredly answers, without looking up from his phone.

“Again?” He whines, knowing how long it took for everyone to sit down and eat the last time.

“I think she does it just to feel alive.” Alex frankly follows-up.

Penelope nods, remembering how she used to push her mother’s buttons just to get through high school. “That’s fair.”

 

Lydia is in the middle of a passionate speech when she sees Schneider through the kitchen’s wooden window frame. “Esneider!”

“What’s up?” He tries to stay calm, thinking she’s going to bring up his turkey picadillo again. That was _not_ a fun night.

“I never asked ju, did ju ever call Adriana?”

The family all swing their heads back to a frozen Schneider.

Elena, embracing her chismosa genes, asks “oooooh, who’s Adriana?”  
Penelope joins, unable to factor in volume control, “yeah, who’s Adriana?”

“Just someone from a beet juice stand at the farmer’s market. Lydia got her number last weekend. For me. Although I wasn’t even nearby.”

“Mami, what the hell were you doing at a farmer’s market?” Penelope furrows her brow emphatically.

“Finding Esneider a wife, claaaro.” She slowly fans a hand out toward him.

“So you don’t just try to get _me_ married? You resort to other people?” Penelope takes some emotional self-inventory, “that’s oddly upsetting.”

Lydia comes over to Penelope and hugs her from behind. “Consider this a side pro-yeck on my life’s calling.”

“Yeah, okay, now I’m annoyed again.” She tenses her shoulders under her mother’s hold.

“So… did you?” Alex asks Schneider.

“Call her? No, nah.” He takes a millisecond to interpret Penelope’s body language, “nah.”

Elena finally comes and joins everyone at the table, leaving Schneider as the only one standing, “are you _going_ to call her?”

“Ooh,” he looks up at the ceiling, wishing he could create a diversion– maybe a small fire. “Prolly not.” He didn’t think Penelope looked particularly distressed before, but she definitely looks pleased now.

“¿Pero por qué no? I know juou slow me down. _’re_ not going ‘celibate’ como Padre José,” she puts her hands over Penelope’s ears, “… or Lupe.”

He stifles a laugh while Penelope grimaces, and he still waits for some smooth way to end this conversation. “No, I’m just focused on other stuff right now.” He pinches the bridge of his nose and goes to the kitchen before they hear him sing out, “oh, Pen, could you help me plate this _cauliflower_ con pollo?”

 

Lydia darts her eyes at Elena again and Penelope looks at her family as she gets up, pretending to not know what he needs her in the kitchen for.

 

“Qué tú quiere’?” She whispers sharply.

He waves his hands dramatically and hisses back, “what do you mean? You were there! Where do we go from here?”

“I don’t know, Schneider! If I knew how to get eHarmony over there off my back, I’d be living a very different life!” Her hands are already flailing in anxiety.

“Valid, valid.” He peaks out at the table. “So, no game plan. Got it.”

“I’ve been finding ways to change the subject for years. You’ll be fine,” she gives his shoulder a pat.

They both nearly leave the kitchen without the plates they promised.

 

While they place the food in front of everyone, Lydia asks, “Esneider, jos saying – an’ I wasn’t staring at jur fundillo – but qué es DPS?” She points out a calligraphic embroidery on his pants.

Before the answer occurs to Penelope, she briefly considers _‘Department of Public Safety’_.

Channeling her _World of Warcraft_ knowledge, Elena chimes in to answer, “ _damage per second_?”

Schneider flicks his head around at his butt to remember this piece of fashion he put in his _probably-not’s_ pile. “Oooh, those are my initials!”

“Initials?” Alex asks. “Why am I sorta surprised that you have other names?”

“Instead of like a Beyoncé situation? I tried it.” Schneider still looks over his shoulder like the Coppertone baby.

Looking between Alex and Schneider, and then over at her mother and daughter, Penelope takes on a confused frown. “Why are we dwelling on Schneider’s name and not at all addressing that he’s wearing olive capri pants?”

“... Why are we all staring at Schneider’s butt?” Elena finally adds.

Schneider clears his throat and sits down while the family hyper-focuses on getting situated to eat.

 

“Anyway…” Penelope turns to everyone, “that moment got away from all of us.”

 

\--

Minutes into the meal, Alex, forever outnumbered by science nerds and candid women, bravely attempts to pivot away from a conversation about breastfeeding. “Oye, Mami, can you take me and Abuelita to a Lucha match tomorrow night?”

“Where and what time?” She doesn’t look up from her food.

“It’s at 8. In Riverside.” Alex winces while he braces himself for a no.

Penelope makes a sympathetic face, “oh, I’m so sorry, Papito! But I can’t tomorrow.”

Alex innocently asks, “how come?”

“Oh! Because I really don’t want to!” Penelope goes back to eating her food.

“Pero Lupita, it’s for fun as well as, eh, prro-tips.” Lydia forms a fist.

“I can take y’all out there,” Schneider offers, “my former life-coach-slash-nutritionist-slash-skiing-buddy moved there a few months ago. Maybe she’d like a little drop-in from the Schneid-guy.” He stretches his back confidently.

Elena can’t _not_ take that opportunity to comment, “oh my God, you really think everyone likes uninvited drop-in’s, huh?”

“When they’re by me, yeah.” Schneider responds, appearing confused by her question.

“Okay, well then it’s a deal. Thanks, Schneider.” Alex says, while getting up from the table.

Lydia turns to him as well, “sí, gracias, guapo.” She kisses him on the temple, “y esa señora allá…” Lydia waits for him to confirm his status with his Riverside contact.

“No.” He quickly responds, working to fight the impulse to flick his eyes in Penelope’s direction.

Matchmaker Lydia catches a small light of anxiety in his eyes and skeptically creeks out, “... never ever?”

Schneider’s latent fear of commanding authority figures spills quickly, “a while ago. Before she moved.”

“A-jjja!” Lydia raises a finger, “and she’s not an option again nowsadays?”

“Oh, well, as they say, ‘re-bone, lose your… uh, phone’.” He cringes at how unconvincingly that landed. “I’m superstitious. Apparently.” He shrugs.

“Bueno, I always rrespec superstition.” That was enough for Lydia, and she begins to clear the plates – nope – she continues, “all I’m sayink is that ju ask me to find ju a nice wife and I try and try and nobody is good enough for ju?”

“Um, I didn’t actually ask you to…” Schneider cautiously proceeds, “I think it’s important that’s been said.” He smiles in Penelope’s direction but she’s had her eyes closed in a prayer for patience for the last few minutes.

“Not with jur mouth, but ju did with jur eyes!” Lydia calls, walking in between the kitchen and dining table.

“Well, that makes sense.” Elena deadpans.

 

* * *

 

When everyone has finally retreated to their rooms, Schneider leans over to assure Penelope in a whisper, “Don't worry, I’ll leave my wedding ring on so she doesn't try to get fresh.”

Penelope, who manages to give a half-lidded disapproving look back, whispers, “see, now it’s weird when you make jokes like that.”

“Yeah, you know, that occurred to me while I was saying it.”

They both smile at each other, but cut it off quickly. There are eyes everywhere.

“So, what’s this multifaceted lady’s name?” Penelope asks, already prepared to make fun of her.

“Fea F. Colonoscopy.” Schneider smiles again. “The second F stands for Fea, too.”

She rolls her eyes and puts a hand over his, “so what is it actually? Bambi? Trixy?”

“Krystal.”

“With a K?”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks for trying to hide that from me. Solid effort.”

He puts his other hand over hers to stack them 3-high and he sing-songs, _“Lupita Celosita.”_

“I’m not jealous.” She rolls her eyes and looks back at his smug smile. “Oh, shut up.” A beat later, she adds, “so you’re really taking my mother and my son eastbound at the tail end of rush hour tomorrow?”

“Well, that’s _Tomorrow-Schneider’s_ problem. So I don’t gotta worry.” His smile returns while he leans in to kiss her among her curls.

“Not here, fool! Can’t you wait like a freakin’ hour?” She pinches his thigh, “you’re gonna blow the whole operation!”

“Oh, not to sound like an absolute _rascal_ , because I care very much about these _‘special ops’,_ ” he not-so-subtly air-quotes in her direction, “but I **always** want to kiss you. And I’ll definitely blow our cover.” He shrugs and winks.

“Don’t be cute.” Penelope warns.

Schneider sighs dramatically, “okay, but only because I’m kinda more of a hunk, anyway.”


	5. Hamster Hotels

Elena interrupts, her feet loudly pounding down the hallway.

Instantly sensing something is off, Schneider shoots out of his chair.

“Schneider, I–” her voice cracks while she runs over to hug him.

“What’s up Jr. Super? Something happen?” He asks, trying to sort out where she’s at without being able to see her face, which is now buried in the hug.

Penelope watches this immediate interaction before thinking to get up and join the conversation.

“¿Qué pasó, mija?” She rubs Elena’s back.

Elena loudly responds. “Nothing! Nothing’s new! Papi’s _aaall_ ‘fine’ and great. Drowning in nice Instagram comments on his honeymoon pictures! I seem to be the only one who is ‘stuck in the past’!”

“Hey, hey. You’re talking to someone with PTS, nena. I know the past is always here. And I mean,” she throws a hand toward the curtain, “the only reason your abuelita isn’t talking to your abuelo right now is because they’re in a fight.”

Elena smiles at this, able to only let a few tears fall before she relaxes a little.

Schneider speaks softly, used to talking people down from anxiety attacks, “what you need to do, Elena, is you need to forgive _yourself_ for not forgiving _him_.”

Penelope adds, “there are way too many messages out there that say that ‘forgiveness will set you free’ and other crap like that, but letting go of something too soon because you think everyone else did – well, it’s just gonna bite you in the ass later.”

 

After almost a minute in silence, Elena adds, “it was the algorithm. It kept him locked at the top of my feed, so I unfollowed him – then he just wound up on my explore page!”

Schneider smiles knowingly. “Yep, that same thing happened to me except with pimple-popping videos. You just have to saturate your explore page by liking a bunch of pictures of one thing. I went with elaborate hamster hotels – y’know, blueprints, final designs. Now I’m sorta into ‘em.”

She chokes on a teary laugh while Schneider brings the both of them into a triangular hug. Elena pulls back to look up at him. “Thank you, Schneider. I mean, I’ll probably choose something like deep sea photography… but thank you.”

“Anytime, lady. It’s all for free.” He musses her hair (because she’s the only one in the Riera crew that lets him do that.)

 

She purses her lips. “I was thinking more about what… we talked about yesterday. About me and not wanting to think of you in a role like being my dad.”

Penelope inhales sharply and looks up at Schneider to see how he reacts to the blunt conversation shift.

Elena goes on, “but I think someone like you _would_ make it a good word again.” She looks down at her hands when she sees him getting emotional. “So yeah, I thought about it a lot today. And I wanna take you up on your offer. Having you around –well, on purpose– and chatting with you, ice cream. Yeah.” She bites down hard on the inside of her lip, trying to remember why she felt the need to bring this up.

Schneider goes completely silent in a watery smile. _That’s_ why.

Penelope brings Elena’s head down to kiss the top. “Perfect, perfect person. _Mijita_. Nada meno’ nada má’.”

Elena takes a deep breath. “I love you both. This is _so_ corny and uncomfortable so I _am_ going to head back to my room,” she finger guns and then gestures over her shoulder with her thumbs, “but I love you both.”

 

-

 

Still absentmindedly standing in a hug after Elena closes her door, Schneider turns to look down at Penelope. “Aww, she’s afraid of vulnerability just like her mami.” He pinches her cheek.

Penelope looks up at Schneider and jerks her head away. “I’m actually a little surprised you didn’t tell me that you and Elena had a conversation like that.”

“Full disclosure? All I did was _offer_ to be there for her in that way and she said she doesn’t need a father figure. Because she already has a mother figure.” He squeezes her with one arm.

Penelope goes speechless, looking for words but also maybe never needing to speak again. “Das me.” She coughs out a laugh with her eyes closed when tears start prickling.

“You’re _everything_ to a _lot_ of people, Pen.” He stares in that open and calm way – as if he’s the only person in her world made for breaking silences.

“I think–” she clears her throat, “I think whatever you are to the kids, that’s up to them, but to me, I don’t know.” She fist bumps his stomach. “Since having them, I’ve wanted time to just stay. still. And here you are, like a stupid parachute and–” she looks up at the ceiling then down at the floor, “you slow me down. You break my fall.”

He responds quickly and matter-of-factly, “you’re Superwoman and I’m the cape.”

Penelope squints. “Superheroes definitely don’t use capes to go slower… that makes no sense.”

“Oh, I’m just saying you do the work and I make you look cooler.” He gives her a little head nod and lets go of her to finish cleaning up.

Mostly pretending to be annoyed, Penelope's eyes follow him while he moves around the kitchen.


	6. Stigma

The following Sunday, Penelope wakes up around 6am from an accidental sleepover. Immediate panic mode. Knowing her mother would already be deep into preparing breakfast, Penelope comes up with a plan that could hopefully get her into her apartment without any accusations.

 

\--

 

“Esneider?” Lydia emerges from the kitchen.

“Hola, guapita! Is Penelope up already?” He whispers.

“Oh, she usually comes out any minute now on e-Sundays.” Lydia looks around the corner, now curious herself. She arrives at Penelope’s bedroom… y no Lupe. “¿Pues, dónde está?

Lydia comes back into the living room, “no, she’s not here! Do ju think she is with a man?”

Schneider’s eyes widen, “oh no, Pen? With a man? Jajaja qué funny! Couldn’t she just be on a run?” He feels like he’s probably smiling weird but knows he’s generally passing as calm.

“Rronning? I don’t think so…” While Lydia briefly racks her brain, Penelope walks through the front door. “Ay, mija! Guere were ju?”

“Ay, Mami, I just went to the store to grab some things!” She waves around a carton of eggs and a box of tampons. And starts to flinch under her mother’s stare. “... What?”

“Ju went in public lookink like that? Ju look like ju got lost coming out of the Walmart changing rroom, wearing the payamas ju decide not to buy because they don’t fit ju!” She walks over to grab the tampons. “¿Y qué es esto? Ju walk aroun’ with no bag so men in the e-strreet can know guat ju do with your concha?”

“Mami, there’s a tax on plastic bags! I’m not giving the bodega a dime just to carry something with a handle! Plus, aren’t you happy that I’m telling all of Echo Park how fertile I am?!”

Schneider chimes in, “I think it’s a great way to break the taboo!”

Elena enters the room, annoyed and groggy. “What are we yelling about this early?”

Lydia raises a hand before going back into the kitchen, “Tu madre! Is a puta!”

Elena’s nostrils flare when she stares between her mom and Schneider, “okay, what?”

Trying to cut through her obvious train of thought, Penelope flatly clarifies, “because I menstruate.”

“Ah.” And Elena follows Lydia into the kitchen for a pastelito.

 

Penelope angrily turns to Schneider. “That went well.”

“At least they don’t suspect anything.”

“Yeah, well the conversation still included yelling and calling me a puta so the results feel about the same.”

 

\--

 

Hours go by, the family scattered around the living room embracing comfortable silences in between breaks for gossip and snacking. Around lunch time, while Lydia gets ready for the farmer’s market, Penelope finally reaches a boiling point over her meddling. It particularly struck a nerve after the pleasant stretch of interactions managed to wash away the oddly specific fertility shaming earlier that morning.

The screaming seems to start immediately when the conversation starts, the two now alone in the apartment.

 

 **“¡Mami, déjalo en paz por fa!”** // “¡Solo quiero ayudarles!” // **“¿Ayudo? Él te dijo que no lo quiere, entonces he doesn’t want your CubanMatch.com. Nunca lo quería tampoco!”** // “Mi niña, no sabes lo que quieres.” // **“I know myself better than you know me! And same goes for him!”** // “... ¿Por qué te importa tanto lo que hago con Esneider?” // **“¿Cómo?”** // “¿Lupita, Por. Qué. Te importa. Tanto?”

 

“Pues, no. No es así, it’s not like that. He can do whatever he wants! Me with Schneider? _Blech_ . _Yuck_.” Penelope makes a face of disgust, but her eyes are panicking.

“Ah,” Lydia lifts an eyebrow so sharply it looks like it was fishhooked. “I never said anything about ju together.”

Penelope breathes out, “okay, well then, good.”

“... Just that ju want to be.” Lydia smirks. When she sees Penelope’s eye roll, she continues, “okay okay, then ju won’t mind if he rruns into esa señora from the farmer’s market.”

“Nope. Of course not. I don’t mind.” Penelope answers truthfully. If Schneider is anything, it’s loyal. And he’s not going to ruin this all before it really begins for some root vegetable lady.

 

Schneider walks in at that moment, timing perfect as ever. “I’m gonna be honest, I heard my name so I listened outside the door to see what you said about me. Pretty sure I heard a ‘yuck.’” He looks at Penelope, trying to seem amused rather than desperate for context.

“Lupe was just saying that she don’t mind if you go out on a date with Adriana.” Lydia loves to stir pots, and not just of ropa vieja.

“Oooh, _was_ she?” Schneider looks at Penelope again, trying to gauge her reaction to this summary. His face micro-cracks. And Lydia notices.

“I’m being misquoted!” Penelope walks over to him, not considering how defensiveness might… appear to others.

Lydia hums a familiar song, “Rra, rra rra rra, Ting, tink-y ting.” The wedding march.

“Okay, Mami, thanks, ya!” Penelope dismisses her with a big hand wave.

And Lydia retreats behind her curtain.

Pulling Penelope into the kitchen, Schneider waits a moment to whisper, “she scares me. That level of commitment to the cause… she’s like Elena except she’s working _for_ patriarchal values.”

Penelope closes her eyes and shakes her head. “God, I keep burying myself under more and more lies! I’m stressed as hell!” She scrunches her hands in her curls while he waits an appropriate amount of time in silence before changing the subject.

“Did you want to go to a meeting with me today? I’ve been catching the bright n’ early ones lately but I missed mine this morning for – well, you remember.”

“Yeah, I do.” She sees his immoral smile, “I mean, _I do_ want to go to a meeting. But I also _do_ remember this morning. Because it was _this morning_.” Penelope finishes in monotone. She would never give him the satisfaction of heavy-handed flirting.

  


A second passes and Schneider looks around the quiet apartment. “How about right now?”

Penelope glances over at the curtain and shrugs. She goes to slip her shoes on and grab her purse, yelling, “okay, Mami, me voy con Schneider ParaUnAAMeetingOkayByeAdiós.” She finishes the announcement quickly to be out of the door before any angry response and, once outside, whispers to herself, “no farmer’s market today, Mami, sorry.”

 

* * *

When the meeting nears its end, a surprisingly meek Schneider finally stands up. While he talks about how his sobriety has become less and less precarious, a clean-cut man in the meeting leans over to Penelope.

Mostly unnoticed in such a big group, he whispers, “are you the wife?”

She freezes. It’s not an absurd question given the context but it definitely catches her off guard. “Huh?”

“Well, I met Pat a few days ago at my first meeting since moving to the area. He said he’s making progress with earning his family’s trust back. I just assumed you were here for support. The man _reeeally_ cares about you.”

Penelope feels her face get warm. “Oh, um, yes. He’s doing real well.” She smiles brightly and tries to refocus on what Schneider is saying:

“- and so, these days I am trying to transform disbelief into gratitude.” He warmly locks eyes with Penelope. “I owe myself that.” He makes his way back to his seat with some smiling down the aisle at affirming faces. When Schneider finds his seat next to Penelope again, she grabs his hand with both of hers.

A lanky man steps back up to the front to make some closing remarks. “A lot of us fighting with addiction – maybe multiple at a time – don’t suffer from the why-me’s when something bad happens to us. But when something good happens, it’s _‘why God? Why now? This can’t be right.’_ ” Nearly everyone laughs and he continues, “maybe you think you got into this room by disappointment. Or exhaustion. Or hitting rock bottom. But every single one of us is here because we made a choice.” He pans around the room to try to make eye contact with the crowd. “At least for ourselves. And, hey, that’s a whole person who didn’t give up on you.”

There is some murmuring before the crowd starts to mingle and snag the last drops of terrible coffee.

 

-

Schneider turns to look at Penelope as they exit through the front doors of the church back into the parking lot, which is now covered in sunset.

“So I didn’t tell you that was gonna be an NA meeting.”

She looks at him skeptically. “Yeah. I noticed. Any reason why?”

“W-” he grabs her elbow to stop her near the street lamp, “it – it seems scarier?”

Penelope’s silent for a moment. “It is and it isn’t.” She lays a palm on his chest. “I’m not about to let drug stigma make me believe alcohol is somehow more okay for you.”

When he winces, she adds, “point is, Schneider, these things run your life and you’re getting help for everything all at once. If anything, it’s even more incredible.”

“Yeah?”

She licks her lips in a smile. “Hey, do you know that guy who was sitting on my right?

“Yep, yeah, actually his name is also Pat!” He laughs loudly, “why?”

She uses the hand on his chest to give it a quick smack and she walks over to the car. “He thought we were married.”

Schneider follows and unlocks the car with his key-less starter. “And so during my speech on gratitude you clarified that I was an unmarried man in my 40’s?”

She tugs open the passenger door and waits until he gets in the car to answer, “nah, I didn’t correct him.”

He sing-songs back, “oh?”

“I didn’t want you to seem pathetic.” She smirks.

“Oh ho ho, Pen, don’t try to backtrack now! You like me. Big time.”

“Why do I tell you things? _Why do I tell you things?_ Why do I say anything out loud to you at all?”

He starts the car and turns off the ceiling light. “You have a big crush on me! You wanna carry this salami right outta the meat market ASAP.” He starts to reverse out of the spot, now wearing a boyishly excited face.

She grimaces and shivers at the awful word choice but stays silent and he catches this out of the corner of his eye. So, naturally, he continues teasing her, “don’t worry, I’m not out of your league, Pen.”

“Shut up, Schneider.”

“Yep, I sensed I should.” He snaps his mouth closed.

They both sit in silence for the first five minutes of the ride, hidden smiles growing on their faces.

  



	7. Rash

Weeks pass with Schneider and Penelope still sneaking around. Midnight hidden meetings turn back into just time to have more intimate conversations and they both wonder if anything really changed. Other than that one thing.

 

On a Friday night, when everyone is miraculously home at the same time, Schneider pulls Penelope into the kitchen to listen to her talk about her day again (he likes to check if there are any extra details she had to skip over – mostly the  _ I thought of you when _ ’s).

 

“I’m telling you that’s it – well – this is not romantic exactly but I  _ did _ help someone who listed ‘dried seahorse’ in the medications category on his forms. Seemed pretty Schneidery.”

He looks out the window to think. “Yeah, I’ve definitely taken it – no it did  _ not _ help me with my problem.”

She looks at him through squinted eyes – at yet another vague but, at the same time, very specific admission by Schneider. “Was it… impotence…?”

“Ha! That’s never been a problem for me,” he winks, “no, it was a rash.” His smile slides off his face, “that’s not better, huh? That’s w–”

“Worse. Yeah.”

“Well, the end of the story is that I had to go all,” he air-quotes, “ _ ‘Big Pharma’ _ on it but the prescription gel cleared it up in a week!” He regrets explaining now.

“ _ Blech! _ ” She sticks her tongue out.

“Pen, you’re a nurse!” He gets defensive.

“That has nothing to do with whether or not I wanna picture you applying a topical regimen to your rash!” Penelope maintains her grimace. “You also never told me where it was so–”

“Oh, ha. Ha. No, not that. It was just your standard armpit rash.” He nods and shrugs. “I’m a chafer. But I don’t gotta tell  _ you _ !” He winks.

“We’re really not gonna sexualize chafing right now, Schneider. We really won’t be doing that.”

“Fair enough.” He puts a hand over her head to grip the top of the fridge. “Are we sexualizing  _ anything _ ?

She rolls her eyes at his transition. “I hate that this stuff works on me now.” She tugs a bit on his shirt to pull him down but then pauses, “isn’t that your phone buzzing?”

“Yeah, I’ve been getting a lotta emails today about a Craigslist ad I posted.”

“Do I wanna know?”

“Uh, no, it’s better you don’t.” He bites his lip before he leans in to kiss her up against the fridge, knocking a field trip slip to the tiles.

 

When he pulls away a moment later to share a soft smile with her, Schneider double takes at something in his peripherals.

Alex and Elena both have their jaws hanging open stupidly toward them, Lydia only a few feet behind, looking wickedly smug.

“Uhhm…” Alex starts.

 

Penelope only notices the living room scene after the sound of his voice, and she quickly straightens her shirt and wipes her mouth.

“Sorry, y’all. Didn’t know you’d be right there.” Schneider submits, not knowing what else to say.

“Ju don’t rread the grroup text?” Lydia accuses.

Schneider pulls out his phone to check.

 

––––––––––––––––NEW MESSAGES–––––––––––––––

**[4:40] (E): I feel really targeted rn**

**[4:41] (L): Elena, Alex and I don’t judge u because u r gay we judge you because u r a nerd**

**[4:42] (A): Ooooo burn notice @ Elena!!**

**[4:42] (E): You 2 as a team is really annoying.**

**–––––**

**[4:51] (A): Ablta is there still ice cream?**

**[4:52] (E): Yeah we just got some.**

**[4:52] (E): So yup unless mami ate it all**

**[4:53] (L): burn notice @ lupe**

**[4:53] (L): Party in the kitchen chiquitos vamonós**

 

Schneider clears his throat while he turns off his phone screen again to slide it into his pocket. “Huh, look at that. So only  _ one _ of those push notifications was a response to my ad.” 

They all remain in place, still gaping at them.

He laughs nervously. “So… you were saying you wanted ice cream?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oops short chapter, the next one will be much longer

**Author's Note:**

> Writing this has been a therapy session lmbo


End file.
